Echoes

The thunderstorm’s now gone, But the power’s still not on, For the wind and rain had ravaged up the coast. Though I work though num’rous beers, It will not o’ercome the fears, Of the thing about the night I fear the most. For the light is almost spent, ‘Cross the ocean it has bent, And the night has come and swallowed up the day. Now I pray that I can sleep, Through this silence that I keep, And I’ll make these dreaded echoes go away. For this silence is a curse, And I know of nothing worse, So I keep the fan on low here by the bed. And the rhythmic rhyming roar, Would block out the vacuum core, Of a silence that’s so loud, it wakes the dead. But I lay in utter quiet, Mid the silent mental riot, That attacks me as within this bed I lay. And my head drops in frustration, As I pray for some salvation, And a way to make these echoes go away. I can hear my thoughts compounding, To the beat of my heart pounding, As it resonates within this plaster tomb. Now my mind is overwrought, As I can hear my every thought, As it echoes through my soul’s inflicted gloom. For each whispered thought I’ve had, Is screamed a piercing, howling mad, As the focus of my mind is on dismay. Of the loneliness and fear, These echoes scream within my ear, Of a torment that will never go away. But each rustle of the sheet, Sounds like the slamming of concrete, And each squeak of bed sounds like a banshee’s scream. And the blood within my veins, It surges through my body’s lanes, As it sounds just like a train’s full head of steam. The permutation of this clatter’s, Torn my sanity to tatters, For my madness is the hunter, I’m its prey. Now I won’t survive this night, If I surrender to this plight, And I’ll never make these echoes go away. So still I lay in anguish, Still I lay as left to languish, As I wait for dawn’s first hopeful hint of light, To escape my minds addiction, To this torturous affliction, For I know the dreaded Echoes rule the night.